Momster
by Max Fresh
Summary: A piece of the puzzle slowly forces its way into the wrong place.
It was the end of a long day, and Emberella was exhausted. School had almost been cancelled that morning-another puzzle blocking the entrance-but of course, someone had taken care of it in time. She didn't know who it was this time, but she hated them for it because school was lame. Ember hated her classmates, too. Perhaps most of all, she hated that she had to stay late for puzzle club. And she had her father to blame for that.

 _I don't care if it gets me into a good college_ , she thought as she came to the door to their apartment. _Getting home at five sucks._

She heaved the door open with a grunt, and green sparks lingered in the air as she shut it behind her. She leaned against the door and sighed, with relief to have survived the school day and with the dread of having to deal with Dad. 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire' would be a partially appropriate phrase to use. But not quite appropriate enough.

The sounds of Dad cooking filtered in from the kitchen, which was only partially visible from the front door. When Emberella dropped her leaden backpack to the floor, there was a pause filled only with the gentle crackling of flames. No sneaking into her room tonight. Dad usually heard her anyway; he was the quietest person she knew, and an excellent listener. He called out, at a volume most people use for speaking, "...Ember?"

"Yeah, Dad," she muttered.

A head of orange flames appeared in the doorway, silently assessing her. Waiting for more information.

"School was fine. Puzzle club was fine." She met his gaze only briefly and huffed, "I'm going to my room for a while."

She tramped off to her quarters, and the room lost its green glow. Grillby's posture drooped a bit as he went back to preparing dinner.  
Ember collapsed on her bed with a heavy sigh. She was so utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She didn't even bother to change out of her uniform. It was enough to simply lie there as the day drifted away like smoke. Still, she found herself unable to relax. Something weighed on her, something she didn't want to face. And she certainly didn't want her dad finding out about it. Maybe she could get her mind off it, she thought. So out came her cell phone.

It was about ten minutes that she lay there, scrolling through her friends' posts on UnderNet with one tired arm. It would have been longer, probably until dinner was ready, but a knock at the door demanded Ember's attention.

She froze. Could it be? She sat up on the edge of the bed and watched the door. Another knock sounded, almost hollow sounding.

She recognized that knock. It was Mom.

All angst set aside, Ember rushed to the door and opened it wide. It was Mom! Ember would have the biggest grin in the world if her face weren't made of fire. It was always so good to see her mother.

Mom asked if it was okay to enter the room-it was always okay-and settled down on the bed. Ember wasted no time in joining her mother.

"I heard you had a bad day at school."

Dad was all too observant. Ember started to shrink in her seat.

Mom gazed at her with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Were anyone else asking the question, Emberella would instantly reply no. But this was Mom. "Well..."

Mom waited patiently. Finally, Ember started to cave.

"Something happened today. Myopia and her friends..."

"Those girls again? If they're giving you trouble again-"

Ember jumped. "No, Mom, it's fine. You don't have to do anything about it."

But Mom responded with a knowing look.

She sighed and averted her gaze. At last she mumbled, "They were calling me 'umbrella' again."

"Oh, sweetie..."

Ember started to shake. She would cry if her face weren't made of fire. "And they were making fun of me because my face is made of fire."

Mom's arms wrapped around her, thin and cold yet comforting. It was a strange kind of warmth, a warmth of the soul, one that lingers in your heart and brightens your day more than any flame. And in that strange way, Mom's hugs were the warmest.

They stayed like that for a few wonderful moments, just long enough for Ember to feel thoroughly comforted. She wished that Mom could be there every day, for her and for Dad. But for now, these moments were enough.

They separated, and Mom's white hands rested firmly on Ember's shoulders. "Now, listen," Mom said softly. "Don't let those girls make you feel bad for being who you are. You just remember that you are perfect just the way you are, okay? You're a beautiful 15-year-old girl, and you're just as smart. Besides..." Ember's mother gave her a wide smile. "You're not all fire. You are my daughter, after all. So show some more _backbone_!" Mom winked.

Ember giggled lightly, and green sparks danced around her. "Oh, Mom. You always know what to say."

"That's what I'm here for." Mom's smile faded a bit. "I'm afraid I can't stay for long, though. I have a lot to do tonight, and there are places I need to be." The two embraced once more. "But nowhere is more important than here."

"I'm so glad you could come home," Ember said as her mother rose from the bed. "Even if it was just for a few minutes."

Mom turned from the bedroom's gray door and smiled lovingly. "I'll be back again as soon as possible, sweetie. I promise."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Ember," replied Gaster.

And Mom exited, closing the door softly. After a moment, it disappeared too.


End file.
